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December 28, 2008|By John Kass

The Illinois Gaming Board's latest decision, to give the state's last unused casino license to Des Plaines, caused one board member to tell an amazing story.

A story about a stinking monkey.

"A woman brought home a monkey she had purchased at the local pet store," said board member and Rev. Eugene Winkler at last Monday's meeting.

"Her husband was outraged. 'Where will the monkey eat?' he asked. 'At the table with us,' his wife replied. 'Where will the monkey sleep?' 'In our bed with us,' said his wife. 'What about the odor?' he said.

"'I got used to it,' she said. 'So can the monkey.'"

Like many state governments, Illinois benefits by promoting a terrible addiction. The people gamble and lose and the state makes millions upon millions in revenue, allowing politicians to escape tough budget decisions.

When it comes to state-sponsored casinos, the Illinois political class treats us like so many dancing monkeys.

The measure passed by a 3-1 vote. Winkler, a Methodist minister, didn't like any of the three proposed license sites and he didn't vote. But what he had to say was important.

Winkler's story of the monkey and the wife illustrates the relationship between government and the casino business.

And though he didn't say it, the state invites us to dance, just like those monkeys, and unfortunately, it's an offer many can't refuse. The government counts on us dancing, and it provides the music and the glittery, flashing lights.

With money so tight, with people losing their jobs, the weakest gravitate to where the desperate are driven: the casinos. They're the ones who can least afford to lose. And their sickness is converted into a state-sponsored revenue stream.

Des Plaines was one of the three towns that were bidding. The other two were nearby Rosemont, site of the last failed casino deal, and Waukegan, the most impoverished of the three locations.

Board members couldn't give the license to Rosemont, since politicians were shocked, shocked I tell you, when they found out a while back that Rosemont has connections to the Chicago Outfit.

Perhaps they read my column of years ago, in which Antoinette Giancana, the Mafia princess, told me that the longtime mayor of that town, the late Donald Stephens, was in effect a pool boy running errands for her father, the late mob boss Sam "Momo" Giancana, at his Thunderbolt motel.

The motel was Giancana's Outfit headquarters in the 1960s, and also served as Outfit day care, where the children of mob families would splash and play.

I asked Antoinette: Did you ever say, 'Hey, Don, get me a towel.'

"Wait a minute!" said Antoinette. "I'd never shout, 'Don, go get me a towel.' That would be rude. I was ladylike. You would say, 'Don? Would you please get me a towel?"

And he did.

Last week, the gaming board members couldn't give the casino to the other town that wanted it, Waukegan, because board members were privately worried that indicted Republican boss Big Bill Cellini had hidden connections with the deal, and they didn't want to look stupid later.

So Des Plaines got the casino license. For some strange reason, perhaps it's just hives, my itchiness tells me that politicians see a jackpot and that the guys behind the guys in Rosemont will wet their beaks in Des Plaines. It's almost across the street.

"I wanted to vote for Waukegan because it alone meets the criterion of a distressed community," said Winkler, "but our staff investigations have shown that the investors are tainted by associations with some very shady characters and some very, very greedy past deals."

Winkler was none too pleased with the Des Plaines deal, either, noting that the company that will run things, Midwest Gaming, has been "evasive when questioned about sources of funds, labor unions, part-time employment and health and pension benefits for employees. All of this makes it hard for me to vote for Midwest Gaming."

So he didn't. Instead, he told the story of the monkey and wife and the husband who was told he'd get used to the smell.

"We have become accustomed to the stench of casino gambling and its effects in Illinois," said Winkler. "That's the problem: We have grown used to corruption in government, pay to play, headline grabbers and behind-the-scenes operators. But real moral and ethical issues are at stake.

"This is a moment when my conscience and my calling combine to prevent me from voting for any of the three applicants," Winkler said. "I am not abstaining. I am refusing to vote for any of the three applicants. They, each of them in its own way, are unacceptable."

What's unacceptable to me is the state filling its coffers by promoting an addiction among the desperate.